Year 217 After the Era of Ruin

  13th Day of the Month of Ashes,

  The wind howled across the ravaged plains, lifting swirls of ash and dust. It carried the bitter scent of oxidized metal and charred stone, a grim reminder to Kael that the world before was nothing more than an open-air graveyard.

  He led his detachment forward, his boots sinking into the cracked earth. Before him stretched the remnants of an ancient city—a tangled mess of shattered structures, eroded by time and the assaults of a forgotten past. These ruins, known as Nekara, were avoided by the inhabitants of the Wasted Lands. It was said that those who ventured inside never returned.

  Kael halted atop a rocky ridge, surveying the landscape. Jagged skyscrapers pierced the gray sky, their broken peaks forming tortured silhouettes. Some buildings, partially collapsed, revealed once-thriving interiors, now reduced to empty shells.

  Around him, his squad moved cautiously. Darius scanned the shadows warily, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, while Lysara crouched near a cracked wall, her fingers tracing symbols engraved in the rusted metal.

  "This is ancient writing…," she murmured.

  Kael leaned in, observing the faded letters. He couldn’t decipher their meaning, but he felt their weight. This place had once been significant—a center of power or knowledge. A relic of a bygone age.

  A gust of wind rushed through the ruins, making the skeletal remains of buildings groan. A distant thud echoed, a sound so faint yet unsettling that several soldiers shivered.

  Darius spat on the ground. "This place reeks of death. Why are we even here?"

  Kael didn’t answer immediately. His gaze was fixed on a massive collapsed tower in the distance. This city had been destroyed by something far greater than mere clan warfare.

  But what?

  He signaled his men to move forward. The ruins were dangerous, but he had to uncover what lay hidden here. If there was a relic or knowledge that could provide a strategic advantage, he needed to find it.

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  They advanced through the wreckage of crumbling structures. With each step, the weight of the past seemed to press heavier on their shoulders. Broken statues lay scattered among the debris, rusted machines of unknown design stood frozen in time, and faded signs bore traces of unreadable symbols.

  Then, they stumbled upon the first corpse.

  A tattered body lay slumped against a wall, its hollow eye sockets turned skyward. The parchment-like skin, stretched over protruding bones, remained eerily intact despite the passage of years. As if death had frozen it in time.

  Darius let out a low whistle. "That’s… not natural."

  Kael crouched and examined the corpse more closely. He pushed aside the remnants of clothing, revealing strange burns crisscrossing the cadaver’s torso. The marks were precise, symmetrical… not the work of a blade or an arrow.

  Lysara, her sharp gaze locked onto the wounds, murmured, "These are energy burns…."

  Kael frowned. He had heard tales of the Ancients’ weapons—relics capable of striking down a man from a distance. But those were just legends… weren’t they?

  He reached out and touched the corpse’s skin. Cold. Too cold.

  A heavy silence fell over the group. Something was very wrong here.

  Suddenly, a scream rang out from the far side of the ruins.

  A scout burst from the shadows, panting, terror in his eyes. "They're coming!"

  Kael barely had time to ask who.

  A figure lunged at the scout. A flash of white light cut through the air, striking the man square in the chest. A shrill, electric crackle followed—then nothing.

  The scout was flung backward, convulsing violently before collapsing into the dust. Lifeless.

  Silence returned, suffocating and heavy.

  Darius instantly unsheathed his sword. "Shit… What the hell was that?!"

  Kael stared into the darkness ahead, his heart pounding.

  These weren’t raiders.

  A metallic sound echoed in the night. A heavy, mechanical footstep—followed by another. Then, a piercing hiss, like the air being torn apart.

  Lysara, her expression tense, whispered, "That’s not human."

  Kael tightened his grip on his sword.

  A clicking noise filled the air, like gears shifting into motion. Then, a red light flickered in the darkness—followed by another, then a third.

  The shadows began to take shape. Humanoid figures, yet devoid of life, moving with eerie precision.

  A strange voice resonated through the ruins, synthetic and fractured by time, repeating an ancient command long forgotten:

  "Intruders detected… commencing elimination…"

  A chill ran down Kael’s spine.

  This was no mere exploration.

  This was a tomb.

  And its guardians had awakened.